


Two’s Company, Three’s a Crowd.

by Gottoomanyships



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, CACW, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/M, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Interchanging POV, Kinda, M/M, Multi, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Other, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Pansexual Tony Stark, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Started as a prompt and now we're here, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Super Soldier Sandwich, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, soul mates, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gottoomanyships/pseuds/Gottoomanyships
Summary: Tony Stark’s life is just one crazy, miserable event after another. The most recent one though, has certainly thrown him for a loop.They say, “Two’s company, but three’s a crowd.”  And boy, does Tony feel that. The Universe sure has a funny way of continually showing Tony he isn’t a fit for anything. And this? There was no way there would ever be room for him here.Or, a Stuckony soulmate Au that takes place during/post CACW that nobody asked for.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 34
Kudos: 434
Collections: Dreamwind's Favorite MCU/Marvel Fics, WinterIronShield*





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so... clearly I still haven’t let CACW go... so sue me. 
> 
> But I wanted to put my own little spin on it. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own, no beta. 
> 
> (I’m still unsure if I wanna get into specifics about the actual soul bonds, but for now they are up for interpretation. Don’t hate me.)

Tony Stark believed that he was just one of those unlucky few who would never have a soulmate. And well, that was fine and all, he’d come to terms with it on his 30th birthday when no name had appeared. It was totally fine. Not a problem at all. He was much too busy to entertain anything longer than a one-night stand anyway. A soulmate would mean commitment and time, and everyone knew that Tony Stark, Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, _didn’t_ do commitment.

And then of course, Afghanistan happened, followed by Obie and then the fact that he revealed to the world that he was in fact, the Iron Man. Directly after that the whole deal with Justin Hammer happened and god, Tony’s life had been an utter shit storm since Rhodey had found his lily-white ass out in the Afghani desert. One thing after another, after another. There was just no end.

In comes Director Fury and his shady ass secret boy band (which he wasn’t even approved for) and then— fuck. The Battle in New York happened. And just two weeks before that, his entire world was flipped upside down when a certain spangle clad soldier was found quite literally frozen solid in the Atlantic. Captain Steven Grant Rogers, literal man out of time, had been near immediately added to the roster and suddenly he’d become Stark’s problem.

_“Tony, give the Captain a place in your tower.”_

_“You’re the futurist, Stark, catch the man up to speed.”_

Under normal circumstances, Tony would have been only mildly inconvenienced by the new development but nothing about this was normal. For one, Tony had quite frankly idolized Captain America as a child and young teen. As he grew older and more aware of the language that Howard chose to use, he grew to loath the star-spangled-man-with-the-plan. Howard had nearly driven himself mad with looking for the Captain, especially after fishing out the Tesseract. God, Tony hated him.

Seems the feeling was mutual.

From the moment the walking Smithsonian exhibit was up and about, they’d done nothing but fight and butt beads about every. Single. Thing. Literally anything. All it took was for the pair to walk into the same room together and bam! An argument of epic proportions was sure to break out.

However, after New York, things seemed to settle down just a little bit. Stark had apparently shown he was capable, and Rogers’ charm had grown on Tony, no matter how hard he’d deny it. They’d become something close to friends, maybe toeing the edge of something a little more after one gala where Tony had one too many and had made an absolute fool out of himself in the backseat of Happy’s car while on the ride back to the tower. God. That had been… well.

Tony had woken up sore, with a crick in his back and a brand-new soul mark. Pretty, curvy letters stamped right across his left wrist.

That had really thrown a wrench in pretty much everything. It was absolutely bonkers.

Rogers wasn’t even supposed to be alive anymore, but the Universe had decided that it would shove them together no matter what. Things had gone surprisingly well after that, and even if they didn’t behave like your typical soulmates or if they didn’t do a whole big celebration, it was still pretty nice.

Fast forward a bit, Tony’s bout with AIM happened, after coming to terms with his crippling anxiety. And Rogers had— well. Rogers had exposed HYDRA and discovered that his best buddy from way back when was alive. All while on the other side of the country. That had… complicated things quite a bit. Steve had a one-track mind the next time Tony saw him:

Find a one, James Buchanan Barnes.

He was obsessed with it. Rogers hardly slept or ate, hardly did anything at all that didn’t involve searching for clues or signs of the Winter Soldier’s next appearance. And despite Tony wanting to be there for him, wanting to show his support for his soulmate, he couldn’t do anything about the growing gap between them.

And then Ultron happened.

Sokovia.

God, the Accords.

The Accords is really where they hit the breaking point. From the moment Tony lay eyes on the paperwork, he knew he and Steve were done for. There was no fucking way in hell that Rogers would go for these, not ever. The fact that James Barnes was the supposed bomber also didn’t help. The blonde was practically foaming at the mouth to get to him before the authorities could and when he’d had a fight with Tony _and_ found a lead? He’d left. Gone. Just— _poof_. That had chipped at Tony’s heart, no matter what he told himself. And just like most things in Tony’s life, it only got worse.

Not only had Rogers up and disappeared, but when he finally reappeared again, he’d gained a new shadow. One metal armed, shaggy haired brunette. James Barnes.

_Bucky_.

Tony had tracked them to the airport in Germany, trying to talk some sense into Rogers, to turn himself and Barnes in. Of course, he’d already known how that was going to go. The fight broke out, Barnes and Rogers just slipping out of his grasp. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. They weren’t supposed to be in this situation. And then Rhodey was shot out of the sky and Tony’s heart nearly broke in half right then and there. Rhodey, _his_ Rhodey, had gotten hurt, seriously so, because Rogers was too busy chasing after his old war buddy. His old— Tony didn’t need to name it, he already knew.

The only reason that Tony had flown out to speak with Rogers’ team at the RAFT, was the fact that the doctor who had been hired to speak to Barnes had been found dead in his hotel bathroom. Meaning this other guy had orchestrated a long play just to get close to the Winter Soldier. And despite the fact that Tony didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to speak to him after what happened in Germany and after what happened to Rhodey, the fact of the matter was, Tony still had Rogers pretty, curvy letters across his wrist and Rogers was possibly in danger.

It had been a mistake. God, he shouldn’t have come at all.

The thing with soul marks was… no one knew exactly how they worked. Some people claimed it was by touch (which Tony had _definitely_ touched Rogers). Others claimed it was instant, like seeing someone for the first time and something just clicked. You knew they were the one. Some people were born with their marks. There was still so much speculation and so much more that they needed to learn about them.

Right now, Tony was just questioning his own sanity. Stark had flown to Siberia. Stark had found the bunker, the vehicle parked out front. He’d made his way inside only to come face to face with the two Super Soldiers.

The Iron Man forces his way through the heavy door, his helmet giving away to olive skin.

“You seem a little defensive.”

Rogers is holding up his shield, a position Tony’s seen him make plenty of times. The Winter Soldier is by his side, gun trained on Tony’s hot rod red armor.

“Well, it’s been a long day.” Steve huffs.

“At ease, Soldier. I’m not currently after you.” Stark directs at Barnes.

Surprise flashes over Rogers’ handsome features for a split second. “Then why _are_ you here?”

Tony looks away for a moment. “Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. Ross has no idea that I’m here, I’d like to keep it that way.” Tony huffs in amusement as he leans against the concrete wall. “Otherwise, I have to arrest myself.”

Leave it to Steven Grant Rogers to keep up the banter.

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork.”

Tony can’t help but snort. How soulmate didn’t even miss a beat.

“It’s good to see you, Tony.”

Stark’s face softens just a fraction. “You too, Cap.”

Whiskey eyes towards the other man in the room, watching as Rogers gives him the order to stand down. “Barnes.”

The other brunette warily nods in his direction, those dark eyes flicking to meet Steve’s deep blue. A silent question. Tony watches Steve’s jaw work for a moment before those piercing eyes are locking back onto him. Oh joy, Tony had a feeling whatever this was, he wasn’t going to like it.

“What? What is it?”

The captain settles the shield on his back before sighing softly. “Look Tony, there’s something else, uh, going on here. It happened back in Germany, but everyone was a little busy at the time.” The blonde chances a glance at this partner(?) again, Barnes nodding once.

Before Tony knows what’s happening, Barnes is holstering his weapon and looking a bit grim. The moment that the Winter Soldier goes for the sleeve of his flesh arm, Tony’s body immediately seizes up. _No._ _Nonono._ There’s only one reason he would be reaching for his arm and Tony refuses to believe it. There is no way in hell—

“It uh, popped up after Leipzig. And so did mine.”

Steve’s rolling up his own left sleeve, and right where pale, unblemished, Irish skin used to be, were neat, swooping letters in the name _James Buchanan Barnes._

Tony barely noticed though, whiskey eyes still wide with disbelief as they stare at his own signature on Barnes’ wrist. This— how was this happening? _Why_ was this happening? It was weird enough when Steve’s name appeared on Tony, but this? Tony hadn’t even ever met Barnes before trying to apprehend him. What the fuck did he do to deserve this cosmic joke?

“There’s got to be some kind of mistake, I mean, you’re joshing me, right?”

The Iron Man’s eyes trail from one super-soldier to the next. At least Rogers’ mark made sense, anyone who took one look at the blonde could tell how head-over-heels he was when it came to Barnes. Tony had never stood a chance, no matter what the Universe thought. Tony’s just— completely at a loss. The engineer gives a small, somewhat panicked chuckle, unsure of what else to do at this point. This was _not_ a great time to drop this big of a bomb on him. Why did Rogers think this was a good idea?

“W-well. Mazel Tov.” Stark huffs intelligently. This was the absolute last thing he’d ever expected. The Iron Man’s faceplate slams shut with finality; he was definitely _not_ going to process this right now. They were on a mission after all.

“Tony—“ Steve starts but the Avenger simply holds up a halting gauntlet.

“We can discuss this some other time, right now we have to find Zemo.”

Tony resolutely looks away when the two soldiers turn to each other, some form of silent communication that Tony would have no chance at understanding. _Barnes?_ The Universe thought that Tony was a perfect man for the assassin? That was rich. _Barnes and Tony?_ Jesus. How disappointed had Rogers been when that happened? Barnes and Tony. Christ.

The Iron Man is pushing past his ( _two!)_ apparent soulmates as they move further into the bunker. It isn’t long before they arrive at a large chamber, the whole area eerily silent.

“I’ve got heat signatures.” Stark’s modulated voice warns.

Rogers slings his arm through the leather straps of his shield once more as he follows in second. “How many?”

“Uh, one.”

As they enter the chamber, the lights flicker on. Hazy, yellow mist descends inside the newly illuminated capsules. The vaguely human shapes inside remain deathly still. All three men glance around the room, bewildered. What the fuck was going on here?

Somewhere along the walls, speakers crackle to life. “If it’s any comfort, they died in their sleep.” An accented voice murmurs.

Barnes takes stock of the room once more as the mist begins to settle, and that’s when he realizes—

“What the _hell_?”

They’re all dead.

“What? Did you really think I wanted more of you?” There’s a slight pause as another light flickers on and a man is cast from the shadows. “I am grateful to them, though. They brought you here.”

Both Iron Man and the Captain react. Tony powers up his repulsor, while Steve flings his shield towards the window of what must be the control panel to no avail.

“Please Captain,” Zemo simpers, “The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the blast of UR-100 rockets.”

Tony of course has his own quip ready and he doesn’t miss the way that Zemo seems so unimpressed. What exactly was this about? Zemo goes on speaking, exchanging words with Rogers about Vienna and how the man had spent the last year. He’d been following and studying them for an entire _year_ and they’d never noticed. How had they let that slip? Whiskey eyes briefly turned towards Barnes; well, maybe it wasn’t so improbable after all.

Zemo is Sokovian. Gosh, that was a hot subject for Tony these days wasn’t it? Tony watches Rogers face as he studied the other Zemo.

“You lost someone, didn’t you?” Steve questions.

Zemo looks much grimmer for a moment, dark emotions flashing on his face for a brief moment before he makes a quiet clicking sound. “I lost everyone. And so will you.”

Somewhere behind Rogers, a small, old monitor clicks on. The image appears to be some sort of security footage. Steve wanders over to it, Tony following closely behind. Wait a minute…

_December 16, 1991._

That road… “I _know_ this road. What is this?” Tony shouts out louder. His skin prickles with anxiety. Why would Zemo have something with the same date as the day of the accident?

“An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That’s dead… forever.”

Barnes looks weary, a bit jumpy, like at any point, he was ready to tuck tail and run. Steve doesn’t look any better. The freeze frame jumps to life, a snowy, secluded road, shadows contrasting harshly against the white blanket that covers everything. Suddenly, a car speeds into view and careens off the road crashing directly into a tree. Stark watches intently as someone who suspiciously looks a whole lot like the Winter Soldier rides up.

And it just gets worse.

The driver shambles out of the car, clearly injured an struggling. It’s— it’s Howard. The Winter Soldier is there, an imposing figure towering above the older Stark briefly before, much to Tony’s growing horror, that deadly, metal arm shoots out to hoist Howard up by his hair. Tony should look away. He _wants_ to look away. But he can’t. Not even as Howard’s voice says Barnes’ name. Not even as Barnes rears back and makes a bloody mess of his father’s face. It’s only when Maria’s voice cuts over the wet, thumping noises of impact, that Tony shuts his eyes.

_Mom._

God. He’d never heard her sound so desperate… so weak. She’s calling out Howard’s name and Tony opens shining eyes just in time to watch Barnes unceremoniously dump Howard’s lifeless body back into the driver’s side seat. The Soldier rounds the car robotically. Tony looks on in horror as Maria’s bloodied face can be seen in the passenger seat. Barnes is completely blank as he squeezes the life from her body and Tony feels his heart shatter all over again.

All this time, he hadn’t known the truth.

All this time, he’d thought it was simply an accident.

Stark turns to lunge at Barnes, eyes hard and glassy but Rogers is there to hold him back.

“Tony. _Tony.”_

Consumed with grief, tears glistening in his eyes, Stark turns to Steve. “Did you know?”

Rogers hesitates for just a beat too long. “I didn’t know it was him.”

Tony grits his jaw, face a cross of pain, grief and disbelief. “Don’t _bullshit_ me, Steve! Did. You. Know?”

Steve’s face flashes with something too close to regret for Tony to handle before going back to its usual stubborn stoicism.

“Yes.”


	2. The One Who Got Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A romantic meetup in France? Definitely not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo, this one was a doozy to write. It got out of hand.
> 
> Again, all mistakes are my own, no beta.
> 
> Also, also, I don't fluently speak French so uh, all translations are possibly incorrect.

The fight was— Catastrophic. There was no other word for it.

Tony had been blinded by grief and rage and a fury he didn’t know he could possess as he went after Barnes. The hurt was only fueled by his very own soul mate protecting the other, fighting life and limb to allow his escape. Tony had hurt them both, but it wasn’t as if he’d been the only one to deal damage.

How had they let it escalate to this?

Rogers had shoved that oversized dinner plate right into the arc, leaving Stark beaten, bloody and shivering from more than just the cold. The usual steady feeling of _Steve_ from the bond seemed to dim. It left Tony feeling empty in ways he didn’t know were possible. Rogers had chosen Barnes. Of course, he would; Barnes was his soulmate and his best friend. And Tony? Tony was just… Tony. Rogers had never been his from the beginning. Tony had been a convenient lay, a benefactor. It didn’t matter to the Captain one bit that his mark was branded into olive skin forever.

In the end, Tony had been left alone… _again._

Fine. It was— he could handle it. He always had and he would continue to do so.

Tony threw himself into work. He spent his time with Rhodes, accompanying him to all his physical therapy sessions when he wasn’t working on perfecting the braces he’d built. He made improvements on his suits. Finally got around to the nanotechnology he’d been wanting to use. And somewhere along the line, Rogers had deemed it necessary to send him a sorry ass excuse for an apology.

It arrived one day while he and the platypus were adjusting the leg braces. The engineer had accepted the package (much to Rhodey’s amusement) and immediately known it was _him_.

“Tones, don’t. We can toss that crap into the incinerator and keep mindin’ our own business. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.” Rhodey’s chocolate eyes were a mix of contempt and concern.

He’d almost done it too. Almost tossed the package right into the trash. But he needed something. _Anything._ Some kind of closure that would allow him to forget Rogers and Barnes all together and allow him to move on. Leave it to Steve Rogers to always know where to hit him.

Three nights after receiving the package curiosity high and everything else, especially low, the Iron Avenger finally gives in.

_Tony,_

_I’m glad you’re back at the compound. I don’t like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine._

God, if Stark rolled his eyes any harder, they might finally get stuck that way. Right, Rogers, that’s why it was only him and Vision in the compound. Rhodey had his own home and life to attend to.

_I know I hurt you, Tony. (_ Yeah, well no shit.)

_I guess I thought by not telling you about your parents I was sparing you, but I can see now that I was only sparing myself, and I’m sorry._

Why was his vision suddenly growing cloudy? Why were his eyes hot? Oh. Tony watched a droplet hit the paper below. God damn it. No. He didn’t have time to wallow. The rest goes on to speak about the Accords, how Steve wished they could see eye to eye but that he understands that Tony was doing what he believed was right, just like he was. Stark swipes at his face and nearly jumps out of his skin when FRIDAY’s voice announces a call from Secretary Ross.

“Y-yeah, put him through.” Tony croaks. God was that his voice?

“ _Stark, we have a problem.”_ Ross’ gruff voice grouches through the speaker.

But before he can get anything else out, Tony’s leaning over towards the phone and calling out, “Ah, please hold!” While Ross is shouting at him. What? Tony had told him he liked the red, blinky light.

Stark goes back to the letter and his heart threatens to shatter all over again.

_So, no matter what, I promise you, if you need us, if you need me, I’ll be there._

There was another item rattling around in the small package. A little black flip phone, a burner. Tony flipped the ancient device open and sure enough, there was only one contact in there. Tony pockets the phone before he makes any stupid decisions. Like calling Rogers and really giving him a piece of his mind.

Stark’s limbs trembled, hell, his whole body was shaking. How— how _dare_ him. Did Steve really believe that a piece of paper with a few pretty words and this dinosaur technology would be enough? That this is what Tony deserves from him? Tony slumps heavily against the desk, red light still blinking in his peripherals. God. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to… be spiteful, enraged, indifferent. But he just— couldn’t. No matter what Rogers had done to him, he was still Tony’s soul mate and damn it, Stark had a fucking soft heart beneath that iron shell.

Months went by like days after that night.

The council had Tony strung up six different ways, tied up in several different missions all at once. Nearly all of them were jobs that the normal team would have never touched. Pure bureaucracy. This isn’t what the Avengers were intended for. They weren’t politicians or had any particular interests in one party or another, and they certainly weren’t supposed to be used to put out whatever small fires the council deemed necessary.

Tony was tired. God, so fucking tired.

Today’s little slice of life included being chewed out by Thaddeus Ross, joy. Tony’s barely pays him any attention normally, but Stark hasn’t had a decent night’s rest in over 56 hours and it’s beginning to catch up with him. Ross’ voice seems to drift in and out, too loud, and too soft all at the same time. Never mind what actual words he was saying.

“Stark. _Stark_! Tony!”

The engineer cringes at the sound of his first name coming from Ol’ Thaddeus’ lips. At least that word he did understand. “Toddy,” Stark hides the little grin on his lips by swiping down his face. Ross hates that name. “I’ve already told you. This… thing in France, with the pirates? It should be a military thing. Despite the fact that the entirety of your last force was Hydra, minus one, whom may I remind you, you made a wanted fugitive, you still have STRIKE force at your command.”

Ross, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch at the use of the dreaded nickname. “STRIKE Force is on another mission and won’t be available in the time span that the council wants this looked into. Vision is currently MIA, Rhodes is stationed here, with me, so tell me, genius, who does that leave?” The older man sneers.

_God_ Tony hates him. The Avenger rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. Fucking World Security Council. Fucking bullshit. “Well, what are you waiting for then? Give me the debrief, you’re wasting my time, I’ve got to get going, Toddy. This mission isn’t going to finish itself.” Oh yeah, there it was. Now _that_ was a look that Tony never minded seeing on Ross’ face. The Secretary of State practically hits him with the debrief file before he stomps out of the room. Finally, some peace.

The mission wasn’t his usual gig. Tony wasn’t a spy or a special ops soldier or any of that. He was just a genius in a multimillion-dollar tin-can with a plucky attitude. This dude, Batroc or whatever the file said, was going to be difficult to track down. STRIKE (and Steve) had already tangoed with him once. Batroc was going to be smarter, sneakier, meaner, this go around. Not to mention, the man had escaped custody from a SHIELD (well, Hydra, he guesses) compound. Batroc was in the top few of Interpol’s most wanted, right after his old teammates. Tony yawns, swiping at tired eyes and tries to focus on the paper in front of him. Ugh, whatever, he could just have FRIDAY read him the debrief on the fly to Bordeaux. Now the real question was, did he want to arrive as Tony Stark, or try to sneak in as Iron Man? Fat chance Batroc wouldn’t catch his scent either way. Maybe he could even catch a little sleep on the flight there. No promises, though. No, no. It would just be easier if he dressed up and left in his suit, quicker too. Not that fighting in a multi-thousand-dollar Armani suit was his preference but, Government contracts and all. He should at the very least, update Rhodey to his surprise trip.

“Hey sugar-bear, miss me yet? How are the braces holding up?” Tony hums in-lieu of a proper greeting.

On the other line, Rhodes sighs fondly. _“Hey yourself. They’re doing good, not pinching like before. What’s going on? Ross just slammed the door to his office, muttering and huffing up a storm.”_

Tony can’t help but smirk at that wonderfully painted image. Good. He liked getting beneath Ross’ skin. Hopefully, it would send the old bastard into an early retirement. Stark is perusing his closet as he speaks, “Glad I could make his day. I’m uh—flying to Bordeaux. Got a new assignment.”

_“Tones— “_

_“_ Don’t ‘ _Tones’_ me, Rhodey. I’m fine. It’s going to be fine. I just wanted to update you so you wouldn’t be up waiting for me, platypus.”

There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the line before the colonel sighed again. Jeez, Rhodey did that a lot these days. “ _When’s the last time you had a decent night of sleep, huh? You shouldn’t be going, you’re exhausted. I don’t like this.”_

Tony’s slipping into his shoes, fighting the lure of the bed to his right. Just a few more hours to check out the lead and he could get to bed. “I promise I’ll get some sleep after the mission, scout’s honor, alright? Anyway, I’ve got to jet, kisses.”

“ _You’ve never been a scout, Tony. Be safe.”_

_“_ Always.”

* * *

“ _I don’t know, Cap. There’s something fishy about this lead. Of all the places to hide, why here? Bordeaux is a pretty popular city. More places for him to be seen._ ”

“Or more places to hide in plain sight, Nat. This is the first lead we’ve had in months. I think it’s at least worth checking out.”

The spy made a sound of disagreement but didn’t argue any further. “ _Just be careful. Interpol is looking for this guy and we’re currently sitting at the top of their list too.”_

Rogers smiles to himself as he pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “I’m aware. I’ll keep in touch.”

As risky as this could turn out to be, it could be their only chance at getting anywhere with finding Batroc. Ever since Steve had learned of his escape and all the shady dealings the man had been doing with his newly found freedom, Rogers had steered the team on his trail. It was a wonder that Hydra captured him at all the last time; each lead turned up dead and then there was radio silence for a long while. That was until a couple days ago, when a street corner security camera caught Batroc slipping into a hotel in Bordeaux, France.

Only issue here was, if they managed to get that footage from T’Challa, he’s almost certain that it would be found by the Council or at the very least Interpol and that meant— God. That would be a disaster.

He needs to focus. Finding this hotel just by memorizing what the front looks like is going to be a little tricky but, was it really any fun if there wasn’t a challenge? It’s late in the afternoon, around four or so, and the streets are bustling with people. It will be easy to blend into the crowd. Rogers adjusts his dark denim jacket and sets in the general direction Natasha had pointed him to. This shouldn’t be all that difficult. The hotel looked big and fancy, probably a hot spot for tourists. An older building near the center of the city. Location alone narrowed the list down to just two possible candidates, at least according to Nat.

The city is admittedly beautiful. Definitely not the kind of place he would expect a terrorist-for-hire like Batroc to be hiding out in, though, he supposed the amount of civilian life was an easy enough method of escaping or negotiation should the man need it. That exactly was high on the list of reasons to catch him.

Rogers is rounding the corner when the secure phone Shuri gave the team vibrates in his pocket. Good, looks like they pinged the location. _Hotel Le_ _Palais Gallien._ Thank goodness for the modern marvels of the 21st century. He’s still a few blocks out of the way, but at the very least he has a destination now. The Ex-Captain has to keep reminding himself that this was a recon mission only. He couldn’t afford to confront Batroc on his own and lose him again. Of course, there weren’t distractions of other mission objectives or other teammates this time either but, he’d promised the others that he wouldn’t make a move. It was still up in the air if he were being honest.

The sun is low on the horizon by the time he reaches the weathering, yet elegant, façade of Le Palais, allowing him to use the cover of darkness as he surveys the area. Everything seemed calm so far. Only thing was, there definitely wasn’t much in the ways of areas for him to watch the door. Across the street was what seemed like a vacant building, around that, other places of residence. He would most likely have to go inside to have a decent place to—

_“Hey Cap, Shuri just sent me new footage, there’s something you should know.”_ Natasha’s voice crackles a bit over his earpiece.

“I could really use some radio silence here, I’m going in.”

_“No, listen Steve this is really important, check your ph- “_

Rogers cuts off the two way with a sigh. Whatever it was, he could handle it when it happened. Steve surreptitiously swipes at his face to activate the camera scrambler that the Wakandan’s had granted him and takes a deep breath before pushing through the doors. He greets the concierge politely and indicates he’d like to get a drink at the bar. So far, none of the other guests have recognized him or paid him any attention really. His phone is going off like crazy in his pocket, but he ignores it for now. Whatever it was, it could wait. This could be his only chance to catch a glimpse of Batroc. The concierge points him in the right direction and Rogers is stepping over the threshold of the room when he spots _him._

Through the gaggle of onlookers and admirers, blue eyes catch a glimpse of perfect chestnut curls, a slip of olive skin. He’s in a finely pressed, charcoal Armani suit that hugs every dip and curve of his back like a second skin. Over the chatter of everyone else, over the sound of the soft jazz filling the small space, Rogers hears his voice, low, warm, and smooth. God, it’s been so long since he’d heard that voice in person, and it sends a shiver down his spine as his brain assaults him with other instances of just how _good_ that voice can sound.

This is— _bad_. This is worse than bad. This is the very last thing that Rogers ever wanted to happen. Fuck. Was this what Nat was trying to warn him about? He should leave. _No._ Just— avoid being noticed. His look was new and with his beard, he wasn’t as easy to identify but if people saw them together, they might be able to recognize him. But that gorgeous man has such a gravitational force that before he knows what he’s doing, Rogers finds himself crowding in.

“Tony?”

The mechanic puts down his glass of wine, Rogers watching the way his body slightly stiffens up, prepares for an attack. Only he’d be able to catch something like that on Tony. Those whiskey eyes are round with surprise for a split second before the mask slams on, a well practiced smile nearly blinding Steve and the crowd around them.

“Adam,” Tony’s eyes are commanding him to go along with it as if he thought Rogers was stupid enough to use his real identity. “Je suis désolé, chéris, on dirait que ma date est arrivée.” Stark hums without missing a beat.

_“_ Je suis désolé.” Steve says back, tone playful.

Stark orders another bottle and motions for the tables in the corner of the room, private and conveniently facing the door. So… he was here on Batroc’s trail too. Tony’s uncharacteristically quiet as they take their respective seats, the brunette moving in much closer than Rogers would have expected, but he had called Rogers his date. The billionaire flashes another kilowatt smile at their server, thanking them for the bottle and handing off a tip before he focuses his attention on pouring them both a glass.

“You’ve got quite the set on you, considering this has the WSC and Interpol written all over it.”

Rogers watches the way the glass presses against shapely, wine-tinged lips. It’s so distracting that the super soldier nearly misses the way that Tony won’t look him in the eye. Had Stark received his package? Did he ever read the letter? God, Rogers had felt like such an idiot after sending it off but what else could he have done? They were newly on the run, hiding from Ross and his goons in whatever ramshackle building they could squat in for the night. Now with T’Challa’s help, they were much more established, much more organized.

“Batroc was my assignment, originally. You really think we were just going to wait around for Ross to send you or Viz out?”

Tony’s eyes roam the room for a moment, as if he’s searching for something or someone that should be there. “ _We?”_ A perfect brow arches.

“The team, I mean.”

Stark makes a soft sound of acknowledgement, eyes glancing past Steve’s face and focusing just beyond. Steve just wants him to _look_ at him. He wants Tony to see him. Rogers missed him so much.

“Tony—”

“Listen, this is the only lead we’ve had on Batroc for months, so I’m going to need you and _your_ team to pack it up. It’s official business and I can’t have you guys mucking it up.”

The blonde takes a deep breath, pausing to take a pull from his glass. “The team isn’t here, Tony. It’s just me. This is supposed to be recon only. We both want to take Batroc down, so why can’t we just do it together?”

It makes sense doesn’t it? With the both of them on the same case, they should combine their forces and have a better chance at catching the slippery fucker.

“And what? Have Ross, Interpol, and the Council up my ass? No thank you, I’ve been thoroughly fucked enough as it is…” Tony pauses and rolls the glass in his hands for a moment, “So just you? No…” _Barnes._ Tony was asking about Bucky. Interesting.

“Buck is uh, back in cryo while our… friend, figures out how to help wipe all the mind control stuff out. Tony, would you just—look at me? I’ve avoided them all up until now, this wouldn’t be any different.”

Stark is reaching for the bottle to refill Steve’s glass (he couldn’t get drunk, so it made sense to him) when suddenly his eyes go wide, and he pulls Rogers closer instead. “Don’t look. Batroc at four o’clock. FRIDAY has been scanning through their guest systems. Jules Benoit is the alias he’s going by. Eloise said he rented a room for a couple days, but he hasn’t been in since then.” Tony informs, referring to the concierge Rogers had met earlier. Steve’s so close their noses are nearly touching, his heart pounding a staccato rhythm against his sternum. Tony’s breath smells like the rich, red wine they’ve been sharing, and like cigarettes.

“You started smoking again.”

“ _Focus_ , _Rogers._ As much as I’d rather not have to deal with you, this looks like our only shot. I can have FRIDAY give us the room number where he’s staying but it looks like your recon mission just became an acquisition one.”

Tony pulls away, a coy smile on his face for the eyes that had been drawn to them. Right. They were still out in public and Tony Stark was a big deal. The Iron Avenger playfully lilts his head towards the door and Rogers is already moving back his chair to follow. And just because he can (and to keep appearances, of course) Steve loops his fingers through the beltloops of those perfectly tailored slacks, winking at, who he assumes, is Eloise, as they make their way towards the stairs. Once they’re out of sight though, Tony’s quick to bat at his hand, putting a few steps of distance between them without saying a word. It… hurt, but Rogers wasn’t dumb enough to think that Stark would be welcoming him with open arms. The blonde clears his throat, face heating a fraction.

“So, what’s the plan here? Bang and clear or are you still trying to sneak around?”

“Well, considering this hotel is full of civilians and that Batroc has a knack for causing high casualties wherever he goes, we need to keep this as low profile as we can. I can get us into his room, but you need to move fast and grab the bastard before he has any chance of escaping. If we lose him, or worse, this turns into a hostage situation, then its over.”

They make their way up to the third floor. Batroc’s room is the last on the left, right next to the fire escape. The hall is empty, save for the cart of cleaning supplies at the other end. Tony motions them forward as Rogers pulls a gun from inside his coat. The look Stark gives him has the blonde rolling his eyes; what? Did Tony really think he would come unarmed? It was simple enough: Tony would get Batroc to come to the door and Steve would take him out. It almost seemed too simple, if he were being honest, but as far as Rogers and Stark knew, Batroc wasn’t aware that they had tracked him to the city.

Tony fumbles for words for a second before he knocks, a slightly pitched, “ _Service de chambre_!” being called as he moves away from the door. They wait. Steve can hear the sound of a television playing somewhere just beyond the door. The shower was also on. Blue eyes meet amber for the first time as Rogers silently questions on what to do next. Stark huffs quietly and knocks again and when they again, receive no answer, the genius holds up his wrist to the lock, tapping some kind of sequence into his watch. The tumbler on the lock retracks with a muffled _clank_ and they both hold their breath as Tony pushes the door open.

Steve moves forward silently, checking behind the door, in the bathroom where the door had been left wide open, and the shower running. Stark checks the kitchen area, the closets, hell, beneath the bed.

The hotel room was empty.

“ _God damn it.”_

Tony suddenly looks exhausted. Much more exhausted than he had looked after the whole debacle with Ultron and after Sokovia. Even after the whole deal with the Accords. Batroc was gone. The room seemed untouched, save for the television and the shower. He’d known they were coming somehow. Stark scrubbed a lightly scarred hand across his face.

“Well, great. Perfect. Ross is going to tear me a new one.”

The engineer practically stomped out of the room, Rogers following loosely behind him. He followed his former teammate up another flight of stairs where they stopped in front of what Steve assumed was Tony’s room. Steve wasn’t prepared for the other to round on him.

“Why are you still here? Don’t you have a team to get back to?”

Rogers frowns, wetting his lips and not missing the way that amber eyes track the movement. “Tony, I think we should talk.”

The brunette scoffs and crosses his arms, “I disagree. _You_ want to talk to me. The mission is over, we failed. Batroc got away, so there’s no reason we need to see each other anymore. So, scram, before I have to arrest you.”

God, Tony was so infuriating sometimes. “Will you just listen to me? This is the first time I hear from you in nearly a year and I just—”

“You just what? Thought shit would be all, hunky dory and we could hold hands, and sing Kumbaya? Get a grip, Rogers. You made it perfectly clear where you wanted your place to be.”

Steve’s hands ball at his sides. Why won’t Tony just listen for once in his life? He wants to apologize, to—clear the air at the very least. “I can’t take back what I did, I know that. But, Tones, I miss you.”

“ _Don’t._ Don’t do that. I can’t… Not yet.”

Tony’s shaking his head and looking much more miserable than Steve has ever seen him and it makes his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Rogers reaches out to tilt his chin up, fighting to catch the attention of those once warm, honey eyes that’d haunted his dreams since the day he limped away with Bucky in his arms. Even if he couldn’t stay, even if they couldn’t go back to what they had before, he just wanted to make sure that Tony was alright.

But Stark is jerking away from him, putting even more distance between them than before. His eyes look slightly glassy. Steve goes to move in, but Tony’s raised palm stops him.

“Just _go,_ Rogers. Do us both the favor, and just go.”

The soldier watches as Tony slips into his room without a second glance. He stands there, waiting, _hoping_ , that Tony would change his mind and open the door. It doesn’t happen, and after half an hour of standing here like an idiot, Steve finally turns to leave. This mission had been a bust in so many ways. He’d lost the only lead the team had on Batroc, they would have to go back to square one. He’d just made things worse with Tony. Well, if that was even possible. Rogers took the stairs, two at a time, pulling his phone free to call for a pickup.

“ _I tried to warn you._ ” Natasha’s voice chastised softly.

This had been a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, for reading if you're still here! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. You can also follow me on Twitter, same username, for updates and random SteveTony, BuckyTony and Stuckony and other nonsense.
> 
> Translations:  
> “Je suis désolé, chéris, on dirait que ma date est arrivée." "I'm sorry, darlings/honey, looks like my date has arrived. 
> 
> "Jes suis desole." "I'm sorry."
> 
> "Service de chambre." "Room Service."


	3. Lapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we finally are. I’m so so so so so sorry that it took so long for this update to come out but life has been tough recently and most recently, Texas has been frozen over 🙃 
> 
> I hope y’all enjoy and thanks for sticking with it!
> 
> Thank you to Himboplantdad for helpin’ me out.

It takes Tony two days to finish up his reports and get around to being debriefed. He just— he couldn’t get over seeing Rogers. Sure, he was also pissed off about losing Batroc, but Rhodey informed him that STRIKE had been handed the case. It wasn’t his problem anymore. What _was_ his problem, was the fact that he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back to seeing Steve. Steve, who looked too fucking good for someone on the run.

He had a beard. God, he had a _beard._

Tony didn’t even know Rogers could grow a beard; let alone would it ever be that nice. He’d been dressed well and modern enough to fit in with the tourist crowd in France. And his _voice._ Jesus, Tony had dreamt about his voice for months on end.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

It wasn’t fair at all that Rogers could just drop in, looking like the best fucking iteration of himself and ruin practically everything for Tony the way that he did. It wasn’t fucking fair that Rogers could just drop in and tell Tony that he _missed_ him as if he hadn’t been the one to walk away.

But _God,_ did Tony miss him too.

He missed the entire team, there was never any doubt about that. Its just… there was a special, fluttery little feeling that blossomed into something _more_ when he was near his soulmate. Tony had felt like it had nearly withered completely in the time of their separation. Was that a normal thing? Did… Did Barnes feel the same way about him?

Holy baby Jesus on a cracker, that was a whole other mess that he didn’t know what to do with.

Soul Marks were rare enough as it were, but this? Tony had two soulmates and not a single one of them shared a bond mark. Thinking about it was giving the genius a migraine.

* * *

Ross made a point of waiting until Tony was finished with the his debrief and reports before calling him into his office. This should go over well…

“So, not only did you let Batroc escape after we’d been tracking him for months, but you also,” Ross slams a glossy magazine down on the desk with a loud _thwack,_ “let Rogers go free. Not even an attempt to bring him or any of the other Rogues in. There wasn’t anything on him or your encounter with him in your reports or debriefing either.” The older male rounds the desk, palms face down on the smooth surface as he leans towards Stark. The engineer’s eyes find the magazine, a tabloid really. On the cover is a high-resolution photograph of the moment that Tony had spotted Batroc (or at the very least someone who could have been the man’s double), the brunette leaning intimately into a blonde’ space. The headline reads:

**_Tony Stark and a Mystery Beaux?_ **

God, Tony hated his status sometimes. He leans back in his seat, Ross’ breath an assault to his senses, and says nothing. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

“Well, _Tony,_ what do you have to say for yourself? The fact that you didn’t mention him at all is an act against what you agreed to when you signed the Accords. If it were up to me, there would be serious ramifications.”

“But it’s _not_ up to you, Thaddeus. It’s up to the Council. Rogers wasn’t my assigned mission that day. Hell, you think that I was expecting to see him there?”

“And to think it took all that time to find them and it was wasted on you making goo-goo eyes at’em.” Ross mutters beneath his breath.

Wait… _what?_

Stark stands abruptly, nearly toppling his seat. _“You knew?_ You knew there was a possibility I would run into my old team and you didn’t say anything at all? That’s why you were so hellbent on sending _me,_ wasn’t it?”

Of-fucking-course they knew. All of them. Ross and the Fucking Council. They’d sent Tony into the lion’s den and were probably laughing about it the entire time. The General scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We had a hunch, and it was on a need-to-know basis. You would have been distracted if we’d informed you. And yet, you still managed to fuck things up, Stark.”

As if Tony needed any other reason to hate Ross. The World Security Council. The god damned Accords. This was Nick Fury levels of secret bullshit all over again. Everyone had their own agenda, and Tony was just the stupid pawn they used to achieve them. He doesn’t know why he feels so betrayed; there was never any loyalty to be had between them. But they used him, much like a lot of people in Tony’s life and that— he was so over being used.

“Clearly you can’t be trusted to bring them in. We’ll be defaulting those special missions to another, more capable team.”

Tony knows a dismissal when he sees one and god, he’s just happy to get the fuck out of there. Stark stands and slowly buttons his suit jacket, eyes hard where they meet the General’s. Tony hates him, genuinely so. Ross has always had it out for him since the day Tony told the world he was the one beneath the red and gold faceplate. The billionaire stops at the door, his mouth shooting off before he could think better of it.

“You’re never going to catch them. You’ll always be chasing your tail while the team stays three steps ahead.”

General Ross’ face goes positively red with anger just as Tony shuts the door behind him. Christ. Where had that come from? Well, he was never any good at flying beneath the radar anyway.

* * *

Six months pass in a blur and much to Tony’s displeasure, Ross had gotten his way.

_Anthony E. Stark: Off-Duty Non-Combatant._

That was the new title the Council had assigned him. Back to square one. A probationary period, so that he could, in their words, ‘ _reevaluate his priorities when it came to the defense of his country’_.

Or some bullshit like that. Tony had stormed out on the call with the Council and Ross’ office before they could feed him anymore crap.

They’d stripped him of his right to fight. They’d kept any news that might have even hinted at the Rogues pretty much at completely under wraps. Too bad Tony was good at snooping on his own. Besides, what else was he supposed to do with all the newly found free time he had between schmoozing with whomever the Council currently had their claws in? They certainly shouldn’t have made them mistake in thinking that Ross could keep Tony out of trouble. Hacking into the WSC’s files was a walk in the park and thanks to FRIDAY and his own sleuthing, Tony had been keeping his own tabs on the old team.

Well, as well as he could from thousands of miles away.

The last place FRIDAY had tracked information on the Rogues was somewhere southeast of Sudan and then he’d completely lost the trail. That only raised more questions for the mechanic, some he thinks he may have answers to. Clearly the team was receiving help from somewhere, Rogers had looked much too cleaned up and well put-together for them to be squatting in whichever place they deemed a good hide out. Not to mention, from reports of failed missions to trap the team, they had a bird that STRIKE couldn’t identify as anything made by Stark or any other name here stateside.

Of course, aiding Interpol’s most wanted was a serious crime and Tony was no snitch. He’d keep his theories and thoughts all to himself.

The billionaire runs nimble fingers through chestnut curls, eyes landing on the small, black oval shape that lay in front of him. This stupid thing had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since he’d returned from Bordeaux. He didn’t know what spurred him to move it from the top drawer of his dresser to his person. It had felt weighty and awkward at first, and not just because this technology belonged in a museum. It hardly ever left his person now though, a little, somewhat comforting object he could fiddle with in his pocket. Never mind what it actually did, what he _could_ do with it. Tony hadn’t quite hit that level of fuck it just yet but… he was seriously getting there.

Tony glares at the little flip phone like he expected it to go off at any second, but with its previous track record of almost two years silence, he seriously doubts it. He tilts his head back, praying to Tesla and Einstein to keep these frequent migraines away so he could focus on updating his suits without his head feeling like a beating heart. Just a few more things an—

“ _Holy Marie Curie!_ ”

As if the damn thing had heard his thoughts, it springs to life loudly, clattering and chiming out an 8-bit version of that stupid 1966 Captain America cartoon theme-song that Tony liked so much.

_God damn it, Steve._

Tony’s hands itch to quiet the damn thing, to simply open and shut it and ignore the fact that it was ringing in the first place. There was only one possible person who could be calling anyway… or was there? What if something had happened? Tony hadn’t reached down the Bond since before Leipzig.. what if- what if something was wrong?

Tony scrambles and catches the damned thing on the very last ring. For a moment he’s stunned silent, too scared to speak if there truly was bad news on the other line.

“… _Tony?”_

_Oh god. It’s- “_ Steve.”

“ _Uh, hi **.** I um, I wasn’t sure if you would pick up but, it’s good to hear your voice, Tony.” _

Rogers sounds— resigned? Tired? Tony wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, back atcha, wing-head.” (Why the hell did he say that?)

Tony swears he can hear the little smile twisting Rogers’ lips as the man scoffs on the other line.

“ _Look I— I know last time we saw each other, it didn’t end so well. I still want to talk about that. About us. But I figured that we could that when you get here.”_

Excuse him but, _what?_

_‘Get here.’_ Rogers had said, casual as can be, as if Tony had already agreed. As if Tony even knew where the fuck ‘ _here’_ was.

“I’m sorry, but you seem to be under the assumption that I, one, know _where_ you are, and two, can just waltz right in, all willy-nilly. I don’t even know what this is about, Steve. The last time we spoke was a half a year ago.”

Leave it to Rogers to assume that Tony would just drop everything and run to him. Not that— ugh. _No._ They weren’t at that stage anymore. No matter that the blonde was his literal soulmate, they weren’t involved any longer.

“ _Tony just listen to me— I know I don’t have any right to ask you, but I literally don’t know what to do. We’ve tried everything to settle him but he’s just— it’s Buck, Tones, he’s had some kind of memory lapse after coming out of cryo—“_

Oh. So that’s what this was.

Not Rogers missing him, like he claimed in Bordeaux. Not Rogers wanting to speak to him. Reconciliation was an afterthought, just something of convenience for Rogers since he assumed that Tony would bend to his will regardless. Tony’s chest tightens with anger? Heartache? God, he doesn’t know.

“No.”

“ _Tony wait, you don’t understand—“_

_“_ No, Rogers _, you_ don’t understand. You don’t get to just- call on me to fix your problems anymore.” Tony scoffs and runs a hand over his face, wow, he was really so stupid. “And here I thought that might have actually been serious about what you said to me in France.”

He can tell that Rogers is definitely losing his patience on the other side and good, let him get upset. Tony wants him to feel the same soul-crushing feeling he’s experiencing. Rogers had the ability to contact him this entire time and the only time he decides to reach out is when it involves Tony fixing his soulmate.

“Assuming that you all are where I think you are, if _she_ can’t help him, then I what do you think I’m going to be able to do? I’ve got multiple PhDs, Rogers, but I’m not that kind of —

“ _He’s asking for you.”_

Tony’s stunned silent once again, something that only Rogers was ever good at doing.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Steve sighs tiredly, “ _Buck is askin’ for you. After he came out of cryo, he wanted to know why you weren’t there beside him when he woke up. And he hasn’t stopped asking when you’ll be back and I don’t want to lie to him— I refuse to lie to him but, it might soften the blow if it comes from you instead of me. I know— I know that he doesn’t mean anything to you and that you may have not forgiven him, or me, but Tony, you’re his soulmate… that has to count for something.”_

Jesus, why did Steve have to sound so earnest?

“ _We don’t know if there are any other lapses in his memory yet, but maybe if you and I can help him remember Siberia, then it will fix anything else we’ve missed. It might be a long shot, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wants you here. I… I want you here.”_

The Iron Avenger threw himself onto the grease stained couch, a pounding migraine making it difficult to sort out his thoughts. God damn it. This was way out of his league. This was his technical soulmate that seemed to be struggling and his actual soulmate was asking for help.

“Steve, how do you know that it will even work, huh? What happens if he gets worse? Or it drags up the wrong memories? And don’t— don’t do that. You can’t gang up on me like that.”

“ _Tony, please_.”

Oh god damn it.

That right there, was absolutely not fair. That was playing dirty and Steve knew it.

Was he really doing this? Was he really going to drop everything and fly damn near halfway across the world to help the man who murdered his parents? Who stole his soulmate?

“Jesus, _fine_ , Rogers. Fine. I don’t know how you think you’re going to get me away from Ross—“

“ _Already got it covered, Tony, just start packing. They’ll be there for you in a couple of hours. And thank you. Just— thank you.”_

Tony hates that his heart melts a little at the sincerity in Steve’s voice. God, Stark was an absolute sucker.

“Mhm, you betcha.”

Tony doesn’t wait for Rogers to respond, instead he shuts the lid on the phone. What the actual hell had he just agreed to?

* * *

Well, Rogers hadn’t been kidding when he said that it everything had been taken care of. In two hours flat, Tony was being summoned to Stark Tower by a mildly confused Pepper. As soon as he stepped through the door, two sharp dressed women addressed him, instantly confirming his theories. The Rogues were in Wakanda. Tony put on his best bullshit smile and waved Pepper off, going along with whatever the women said he was needed for.

“A second opinion on the proposed clean energy project on how to make it further accessible to the rest of the country.” One accented voice told Pepper, handing over a glossy dossier to the redhead.

“We’re still the leading name on clean energy, Pep and King Kitty, sorry ladies,” Tony grins sheepishly at them when they glare, “King T’Challa asked for me, so I’m kind of obligated to go.”

Tony was definitely praying to all the late great scientists that Pepper wouldn’t see through his bullshit.

Pepper eyes him suspiciously but lets him off without more than a “Have a safe trip, Tony.”

Apparently the same alibi had been provided to Ross and been approved by the WSC so, Tony was cleared for travel. Jesus, no wonder the Rogues were practically invisible, T’Challa clearly had all his ducks in a row. Now that was left was the trip there in the spacious, sleek aircraft that made Tony’s fingers twitch with desire to tinker and then he’d be— well, best not to think about that now.

He really had no idea what he was getting himself into. What exactly was Barnes’ state of mind right now? Rogers had said something about a memory lapse, but what exactly was Rogers thinking Tony could do to help?  
  


* * *

Things have been going perfectly fine since he came out of cryo.

Well, at least _he_ thinks they have.

His memory is sharp and clear. He wasn’t getting those splitting migraines anymore and best of all? Those verbal trigger words were yesterday’s news.

Bucky was pretty damn excited.

He was finally (essentially) free of Hydra’s grasp. He’d woken up with Stevie and Shuri by his bedside, Rogers’ cheeks all bunched up in that goofy grin that turned his brains to mush. The rest of the team had been waiting for him in the common room when he was finally given the all clear to be amongst the living again and things had been going great. Right up until he’d taken a peep at his soul mark.

_Anthony Edward Stark_.

Imagine that? Tony’d been trying to wrestle the gun out of Winter’s hand, that (awesome) gauntlet the only reason the Iron Avenger hadn’t gotten his hand (and face) blown off. There’d been a slip of both their hands, skin contact that neither of them had seen coming and then that— _something_ had zapped down Bucky’s spine like a live-wire and he just _knew_. It had definitely been enough to throw him off kilter even while the Winter Soldier had been out to play.

Bucky’d been settling back into his (and Steve’s) room, the blonde hovering somewhat in the background when his eyes had found it. _Stark._ The Iron Man. Steve’s— _something_. A truly interesting turn of events, considering when he’d discovered his soulmate, Winter had been trying to put new holes in’em.

“So… I’m assuming he’s working or busy with business? That’s why he wasn’t here when I woke up.”

Steve’s face pinched in confusion at the seemingly random question. “Uh, who, Buck?”

“Tony. Gettin’ unfrozen seems like a good reason your soulmate should be sittin’ next to ya.”

The blonde was never any good at keeping his emotions off his face. Did he ask something wrong? Well, sure, they didn’t know each other all that well and the last time he remembered see Tony, the pretty brunette had been trying to arrest him, but, they were soulmates. That had to count for somethin’ right? Not every person found not one, but _two_ of them, considering what Steve had told him.

Steve opened his mouth and shut it again, charcoal tinged fingers twitching at his sides. “Bucky. What’s the last thing you remember? Right before cryo?”

The brunette soldier frowned. Why was he asking that? Had something happened? Shuri had cleared him just to be sure. Bucky scrounged through his memory for anything that particularly stood out. Zemo had forced Winter out. Then meeting Stark happened and then… the airport and finally, he and Steve had gone to Siberia to catch Zemo. And Iron Man had shown up, in rather decent spirits.

“I remember telling Stark about my mark but uh, I—“ there was something going on there. His memory felt fuzzy or jumbled, like losing the signal on an old television and when the signal finally came back, it was the memory of his most recent unfreezing. Why couldn’t he remember?

“Bucky, you haven’t seen Tony since Siberia.”

Barnes blinks in self suspicion. He _what?_

Since Siberia? But that was almost two years ago according to Steve and Shuri. That couldn’t be right. Why would he be away from Tony for so long? Well, cryo aside. “Since Siberia…? Tony’s my— _our_ soulmate, Stevie, he should be right here with us.”

He watches Rogers get a nervous look about him; Steve was obviously hiding something. Something that had to do with Tony, no doubt. What exactly was he missing from his memories? Had something happened?

Rogers sighs heavily, suddenly looking much more exhausted than he had a few moments ago, before he straightens and steels himself as if he were stepping into enemy lines. “There was a— fight. After the airport.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay so, Bucky and the Winter Soldier have always been separate entities for me so, that’s the way I’ll be writing them. I realize it’s different for everyone but I hope y’all don’t mind it too much.
> 
> I hope it wasn’t too terrible. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope it wasn’t too terrible LOL.


End file.
